Jim Halpert: Under Pressure
by HalloweenJack138
Summary: There are some opportunities in life where you can only take one path... And when Kevin Malone asks you if you want to join his new Queen tribute band you say YES. And it's a love story, sort of.
1. Sound And Vision

Jim Halpert in **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure"**

**Disclaimer:** All characters are owned by NBC, etc.

**Plug One: "Sound And Vision."**

Jim would later attribute the whole sorry mess to it having been Wednesday.

Wednesday was always the hardest day for him to get through, far enough into the week that horrifying reality of that this was his job had completely dawned on him, yet too soon too really be able to look forward to the weekend. Worse, Wednesday was Karen's Worlds of Warcraft night, so he would be on his own and between the wasteland that was Wednesday night television and the crippling reality that he couldn't really do anything that would keep him from being able to show up for work on Thursday morning, Jim was forced to accept the fact that his dull day at work could only be matched by another dull evening at home.

So, like most of the decisions he'd made in his life, Jim basically jumped at the first option that might ease his boredom.

Jim could not help but feel Kevin looming him behind him, fighting with whether or not to say something. With anyone else that would have been a little creepy, Jim mused, but with Kevin... it was incredibly creepy. "What's up, Kev?"

"My band has changed directions again," Kevin explained.

"Oh yeah?" Jim realized this was important to Kevin, so he did his best to seem interested.

"Yeah. Being a Police tribute band was kind of limiting creatively."

"I could see how that would be the case," Jim agreed.

"Yeah," Kevin nodded. "Now we're a Queen tribute band."

Jim cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "That _does_ sound like an improvement."

"Yeah, we call ourselves "Princes of the Universe.'"

"Of course you do."

"Well, anyway, we've been invited to the State Queen Tribute Band Battle of the Bands in Pittsburgh" Kevin was the most excited monotone Jim could remember hearing, "and we need someone to join us on stage for 'Under Pressure' and, Jim, I would like that to be you."

Jim pursed his lips as if he had just taken a mouthful of sour Jelly Bellies. He gave himself a few seconds to wonder if he could think of anything sadder than a bad cover band. "I would _definitely_ like to do that."

Kevin's face broke into a boyish smile. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he said, his tone completely even. "Are you sure I'm good enough?"

Kevin placed a heavy arm on Jim's shoulder. "I've heard you sing, Jim, you're good enough," he assured.

"I cannot tell you how much that means, Kev," Jim replied, meaning it. "Email me the details, let me know if I need to bring anything and... let me know what you guys need me to wear."

Kevin nodded and made his way back to his desk, looking much happier for having this settled. Jim gave the camera a big smile, genuinely excited to see where this was all going.

Jim: There are certain times in your life when you really only have one choice.

Jim raises his eyebrows to the camera.

Jim: When you get a chance to see a bad movie for free... when you see a man in a cape... and when someone asks you to be in his tribute band, you chase it. Because something cool is definitely going to happen.

"...So, I just jump up on stage... thunderous applause, obviously..."

"Obviously," Pam agreed.

"...and then I share lead vocals with Kevin," Jim concluded.

"So, Kevin is Freddie Mercury...?" Pam asked.

Jim nodded. "He didn't really mention any names, but... yeah, that seemed like the logical conclusion." He really was trying not to linger at the reception area as much as he used to, but with something this good...

Pam clearly felt the same way; all the awkwardness of the last few months seemed to be lost in sheer girlish giddiness. "So... have you decided what you're going to wear?"

"I was kind of hoping of doing a big, red mullet or clown make-up, but Kevin felt that would be anachronistic, so..." Jim finished his reply with the expression known simply as 'the jim.'

"Kevin used the word 'anachronistic?'" Pam raised an eyebrow dubiously.

"I'm paraphrasing," Jim admitted.

Pam couldn't help but laugh. Then she had a thought that made her smile drop. "What does Karen think of your new musical career," she asked, trying to keep her tone light and conversational.

"I don't know, I haven't told her yet," Jim said casually, as though it were nothing. "Hey, Karen," he called, waving her over to the desk with them.

Karen joined them and Jim began to eagerly explain the details of his deal with Kevin. He obviously needed to fill her in on some of the details she might need to fully appreciate the depth of the situation, like Kevin's band's past lives as "Scrantonictiy," "AbracaScranton," and, of course, "Are We Not Men? We Are Scranton," but soon she was smiling, waiting for her chance to cheer her boyfriend on to the stage.

"That's so cool," Karen laughed, "do you know what you're going to wear yet?"

"I haven't decided yet," Jim told her as they slowly started walking back to their desks together.

"We'll go shopping this weekend," Karen teased.

For her part, Pam just tried to keep smiling.

Pam, slowly but terribly awkward: No, I think it's great to be able to share a joke with someone else. I mean, that's what jokes are for, right? They're fun, so why would you... I mean, the more... It used to be that I was the only one who really had the same sense of humor as Jim, so I would be the only he could really share these things with, but... now there's Karen. I mean, I know things are different with her and Jim because she...

Pause.

Pam: I think its fun to share jokes.

After seventeen solid minutes of pretending to do work, Dwight finally gave into his impulses and leaned across his desk to address Jim. "So, I hear you're planning on joining Kevin's new tribute band."

"Funny how secrets travel," Jim muttered, not even looking away from his computer screen.

"I'm going to have to ask you to reconsider," Dwight told him seriously, "there are _bands_ and then there's _Queen_ and I'm sorry to say that you are just not on that level."

Jim still refused to face him. "Thanks for your opinion, Dwight."

"What do you even know about 'Under Pressure?'" Dwight snapped.

"It's on my iPod in two different places," Jim replied off-handedly. Then he suddenly wondered why he admitted that. Pam didn't even know that.

"You are going embarrass yourself, Halpert," Dwight assured him, dripping venom.

Jim shrugged, that was the whole point.

Dwight let out a bestial grunt and stomped away from his desk.

Jim smiled wider than he had since he got back to Scranton. If he had to pay the airfare to Pittsburgh himself he would make sure Dwight was in the front row when he got on stage.


	2. You Belong In Rock 'N Roll

Because absolutely no on demanded it...

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure"**

**Plug Two: You Belong In Rock 'N Roll**

Thursday morning came and Jim finally began to realize what he was getting himself into. Even with his promotion, Jim had always made it his policy in all matters work to do the best job he could with the least amount of effort. Even most of the pranks came so naturally and easily that he rarely thought of it as going out of his way, but this... Even though he was only going to be on stage for one song, he was the clincher. Kevin needed him to be at his best and Jim knew that no matter how ridiculous he thought the whole thing was, he could never let the big guy down. Not when he was giving him those big koala eyes.

"Here's the tapes for you to review," Kevin said, beside himself with oddly girlish giddiness. "You can look at them tonight and then we can rehearse tomorrow night."

Jim nodded. "Absolutely."

"The guys are really excited that you're doing this," Kevin told him frankly.

"Anything for you, Kev," Jim said, meaning it.

Kevin nodded then started back to his desk. Then he called back "By the way, we're called "Scrantonian Rhapsody' now."

Jim nodded again. "Of course you are," he sighed. When he was sure Kevin wasn't looking, Jim slumped down onto his desk. This was going to be his most exhausting extra-work-ular activity since he and Pam convinced Dwight Phyllis was really a man.

---

From between the blinds in his office, Michael saw Jim lower his head in defeat. Michael always took it as a personal affront when one of his felt depressed on the job, and although that almost never happened, he always knew he was the first to notice it. More than anything else, though, he knew that he was the one person Jim needed to see now more than anyone else. Taking another quick look to make sure where the cameras were positioned, Michael opened his door.

"Heeeeeey... Jimmy Pop."

---

Michael: Whenever someone in this office has a problem, I am the one with solution. I am a... _conduit_ for problems. Every problem in this office starts and ends with me.  
Right now, Jim is caught in an awkward spot between his girlfriend and the girl that broke his heart. Michael shook his head in sympathy. As his boss and his best friend, I view it as my duty and my privilege to help Jim sort through those emotions and make the right choice. That is what makes me a good boss and a good friend.

Pause.

Michael: Of course... if I can help him swing a threesome, that makes me a great boss and an even better friend.

---

The fact that Michael was approaching his desk told Jim that he should be worried. The fact that Michael was walking like the office was full of three-foot thick mud and offering the occasional pained grunt (which Michael typically used in the place of a wistful sigh) told Jim that his boss had a real purpose for speaking to him, which made things so much worse.

"What's up?" Jim asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Nothing," Michael replied.

"Good," Jim said, returning to his computer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

"I just..." Michael was using the tone he always used when he wanted to sound deep. "I was thinking about that show Pauley Shore used to have. Do you remember that show?"

"No," Jim answered, honestly proud of himself.

"And I was thinking," Michael continued, not really hearing what anyone else said (as usual) "'Wow, that was such a great show. Why isn't that show still on the air?'" He looked at Jim for a real answer, but Jim could only offer an exaggerated shrug. "You know, why do things have to change, Jim? Why can't the good things last forever?" Again, Jim got the distinct impression that Michael expected him to have the answer to that question. "Keep your chin up, J-Dog," Michael squeezed Jim's shoulder in a way that was frankly disquieting and started walking back to his office.

As usual, Jim could only sit in confused silence.

"By the way," Michael called from his doorway, "I heard you're working part-time as a Rod Stewart impersonator. Congrats, big guy. Welcome to the world of show biz."

The door shut and Jim was stuck trying to decide who to share a smirk with first.

---

Thursday night at Jim's place, Karen has come over to help Jim prepare for his first rehearsal with Kevin's band the following night, which finally gives the camera crew the pretext they'd been digging for to follow the two of them home.

"Now, these guy's have been together for a while, so if you want to keep up you've gotta be good," Karen told him seriously.

"Have you seen the tape?" Jim quipped back.

Karen smiled.

---

Jim: Yeah, there was a time when I wanted to be in a band. I mean, who didn't?

Jim laughs.

I remember there was this one fantasy I used to have in Junior High. I'm onstage at CBGB's and the place is packed, everyone's cheering for my band. I play guitar, we've got Reni... you know, from the Stone Roses... is on drums, Paul Simonon on bass, Iggy Pop is singing... and then his shadowy figure appears on the stage and growls "mind if _I _sing this one?" And that's Spider-Man. And he leads us in a chorus of "Kick Out the Jams" that really gets the crowd moving...

Pause.

Jim: I was one stupid kid.

---

Karen covered her mouth with her fingers thoughtfully. "You know, I always wondered about that guitar."

"What about it?" Jim asked, a little defensive.

"Are you ever just moved to pick up and pore all your emotions into your music," she teased.

He furrowed his brows in mock-hurt. "I'll have you know that just yesterday I sat on that very bed and started jamming out some Dido, a little early Jewel..."

"You any good?" Karen asks, almost a challenge.

Jim shrugs. "Idunno."

Karen picked up the guitar and handed it to him. Jim plays a few sweet bars of indie, then sets the guitar back down at his side. "I wrote that," he explained.

Karen's eyes widened. "I didn't know you could write music."

"I really can't," Jim admitted.

"Did you ever write anything about me?" she asked eagerly.

Jim let the question hang for awhile before admitting "no."

"Oh."

"I mean, it's not really like that..." he tried to recover "I don't just..."

"No, no, I get it," Karen stopped him.

Then, there was a silence.

"Anyway," Karen said finally, "we really need to be working on you voice."

---

Kevin: The show in Pittsburgh is important because... The biggest crowd we ever played to was about... _five_ people. And they really liked us but... There will be a lot of people there and we really need this. We'd really like a lot of reviews, but... we're not really expecting anything.


	3. The Idiot

_I broke my own cardinal role and put song lyrics in this one, but I figured with the subject matter it was pretty much inevitable. Still. Hope I can forgive myself._

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure"**

**Plug Three: Pumpin' for Jill**

Friday morning as all of her coworkers filed in for the day, Pam couldn't help but notice that Jim's fabric softener must have been doing its job because she had never seen Karen so unable to keep snuggling herself into him so deeply.

"You know," Karen teased him, "now that we've both sung with Kevin's band..."

"I haven't sung with them yet," Jim warmly corrected her, "the first rehearsal's tonight."

"I just saying, pretty soon we can start thinking 'solo career,'" she motioned in the air as if she were producing a neon sign out of thin air.

"Is that what you were thinking?" he had his old mock incredulous expression on, and it killed Pam to see him use it with someone else.

Karen nodded happily. "Like Paul and Linda."

Jim shook his head. "Because everyone always loves that."

When they finally broke away to go to their separate desks, Jim cast a glance back at Pam, she waved hello, then turned her face very quickly downwards. She hadn't realized she'd been staring again.

The day proved remarkably productive, due in no small part to the fact Michael was holed up in his office drafting his script for the latest film in the Meet the Parents trilogy: _Meet the New Little Focker_, only emerging periodically to assault his employees with his unspeakable DeNiro impression. Jim had managed to get nearly a week ahead of his work, earning, in his mind, the right to see what his desk-mate was up to. Dwight was busily typing away at his latest masterpiece when he was suddenly stopped by a thought. Jim made special note of the look on his face (at first he suspected Dwight had soiled himself) and couldn't help but call him on it. "What?" Jim demanded.

"Do you think there's an alternate reality where all the genders are switched?" Dwight postulated. "Like that episode of 'Red Dwarf?'"

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Jim gave an exaggerated nod, carefully not admitting he'd seen that episode. It wasn't as good as "Polymorph," anyway.

"Then you would be..." he took a second to think before deciding on "_Jill_ Halpert."

Again, Jim nodded. "I would have made a sexy chick," he decided.

Dwight snorted. "I wouldn't do you."

Jim was remarkably okay with that. "So, you would be Diane Schrute?"

"No," Dwight dismissed him with a shake of his head, "_Ilsa Schrute_," he insisted with a unmistakable wistfulness, "She-Wolf of the S.S."

----

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Jim, very slowly: I don't know that I've ever been more afraid of Dwight than I am right now.

----

"Hey, Jim," Kevin called over, his large palm covering the speaking end of his phone.

"Yeah, Kev?" Jim approached.

"I've got the guys on the phone, they're asking you to sing something for them," Kevin's tone let Jim know that he had the job no matter what he said, which really didn't comfort Jim at all, but he appreciated the thought.

"Sure," Jim grabbed the phone, his mind still full of his conversation with Dwight, and starting crooning "In the gas station where I work, everyone treats me just like dirt. Nobody offers me a tip, I'm gonna stay right here-- pumping Jill's hip..."

Toby couldn't help but snicker, Kevin and Jim both turned to him, both a little hurt (to no one's surprise more than Jim's) by his reaction until Toby raised a hand in apology. "I'm sorry," he laughed, "but that was my song with my first girlfriend."

----

Toby: The great thing about being a straight man is... when you're in love, you know somebody wrote a song with your girl's name in it. Sometimes you have to go a little esoteric, but... there's a song for every woman's name.

Toby pauses and looks towards reception.

Toby, awkwardly: I don't know that anyone ever wrote a song called "Oh, Pam..."

----

Jim, shocked: What? Of course not. Why would you even think that?

----

In the break room Jim is catching Karen and Pam up on this latest bout of Dwight insanity. "So, he's in the process of creating this whole alternate-gender universe!" Jim is so excited by this that its infectious. "So, of course I'm helping him out..."

"Because so far jumping in with your coworkers bizarre fantasy lives only has you practicing singing all night and driving across the state of Pennsylvania," Karen pointed out.

"Clearly not taking up enough of my time," Jim replied. "By the way, Pam, we've made you 'Paul Beagle.'"

Pam tweaked backwards a bit. "Why can't I still be a Beesly?"

Jim jimmed as if this were obvious. "A man can't be named Beesly. Beesly is too feminine and kitteny."

Pam looked up from her sandwich. "Remind me to tell my dad you said that."

Jim is unfazed. "Why would I be afraid of a kitten-man?"

"So, who would I be?" Karen broke in.

"I don't know..." Jim trailed. "'Karl,' I guess." Karen cast her eyes downward, but which Jim failed to notice as he was talking to Pam. "Oh, hey! Are you going our rehearsal tonight?"

----

Dwight: What would Ilsa Schrute be like?

Pause.

Dwight: As a female, she would lack the sheer physical power I possess, but she would more than make up for it with her cunning, her ingenuity, and her remarkable beauty. She would seduce many a fool-hardy warrior with promises of her otherworldly sexual favors and then... SSHNNH! Sliced clean in half with her gleaming katana.

Dwight smiles at the camera.

Dwight: Does that answer your question?


	4. Lust For Life

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure"**

**Plug Four: Lust For Life**

Jim walked in on Monday twenty minutes late, looking for all the world like he had spent the last seventy-two hours trying to keep pace with a locomotive, only to be run down by the very same train. When Pam turned to him, Jim could only open his eyes to superhuman levels and grimace, which Pam couldn't help but laugh at.

This, of course, couldn't couldn't be missed by Karen, who had spent the whole morning covering for Jim.

----

Jim: Kevin's band has been keeping me on a pretty tight schedule. Yeah, this big show in Pittsburgh is actually only a few days away and they only just came up with the idea of using me, so... I basically spent my whole weekend in rehearsal which kinda cut in to the amount of time I had for things like sleep.

Pause.

Jim: I was at lunch with Karen yesterday and I literally fell asleep at my falafel.

Pam pops into frame.

Pam: Last night I discover a leak in my ceiling that runs from my neighbors toilet to the closet were I keep my clothes.

Jim: Okay, you win.

----

"Did I miss anything important?" Jim asked as he hung up his coat.

"Not really... Oh!" Pam started, "except Dwight got a fax from Andy at anger management camp."

Jim seized the document. "'Rest assured I will destroy you.' Nice." He handed it off to Karen, who smiled. "Oh, hey, are you coming to Pittsburgh for our show?"

Pam tried her best not look at Karen while she hesitated. "I don't know..."

"You have to go!" Jim insisted. "I don't feel comfortable making fool of myself in public without you there!"

"I don't feel comfortable driving that far by myself," Pam offered.

"Come with us," Karen interjected forcefully, effectively shaving several years of Jim's life.

---

Karen, exceedingly uncomfortable: Jim and Pam have been friends for a long time now, and I respect that. I think it's important that I be friends with the people that he's close to. I mean, I think we really have a future together.

She looks to the camera, as if for confirmation.

---

Before Jim or Pam could plan a plausible route of escape, Michael exploded into the room. "Hey-hey-hey... could anything be better than to spend another day with the two most beautiful ladies in the Dunder-Mifflin history? Nope, so why don't you two find them?" Michael found his comment so blindingly hilarious that he failed to notice Karen and Pam's faces crumbling. "Seriously, though I was just reading my favorite book _Everything I Learned in Kindergarten_... you know it?"

"No," Karen replied darkly.

"Oh, it is the best book," Michael exuded enthusiasm. "You know what I learned in kindergarten? Sharing."

Jim's eyes sprang open in frank terror, but like a bunny caught in the headlights, he just couldn't think of how to save himself.

Still Michael continued. "That really makes it more fun for everyone, you know? If you have a favorite toy... just, like someone else get in on all the fun." Michael (being Michael) read Karen and Pam's mortified expressions as missing the subtly of what he was getting at, so he decided to underline it. "If you have something special... something private..."

Seeing that everyone else was to shocked to react, Toby proved himself a hero by jumping in front of the bullet himself. "Hey, Michael, how's your script coming?"

Michael's face became twisted with rage and suspicion. "That is a secret you will never learn, Toby."

"I was just curious..." Toby countered weakly.

"You're not stealing this script, Toby," Michael accused. "I'm already writing it by hand so the Internet can't steal it, I certainly won't let you."

"All I..."

With one last hateful look in Toby's direction, Michael slammed and locked the door behind him. Even closing the blinds lest Toby steal his thoughts through the glass somehow.

Jim placed and arm on Toby's shoulder. "I'm seriously going to name my first born after you," he whispered.

Toby nodded. "It would probably be easier if you have a girl," he admitted after a pause.

----

Toby: I didn't have the easiest time in high school.

Pause.

Toby: Or junior high.

Pause.

Toby: Or college.

----

The drowsiness in Jim's head had evolved into a full-blown tension headache with nausea like some unholy pokemon. As wildly off-base, totally insane, and, well, _Michael_ as Michael had been, he really hit Jim's problem on the head. Of course, Karen and Pam wouldn't share Jim and he would never expect them to. "It's not like being stuck in a cross-state car trip with both of them will do anything to force the issue," he thought to himself. He had to find a way out of this, he couldn't say anything to Karen or Pam without hanging a lantern on the problem, that only left Kevin.

But when Jim looked over to accounting, he saw the poor guy trying desperately to fit his own fist into his mouth and could only lower his eyes in surrender.

----

Jim: Last night Kevin told me that me that me singing with them was the only hope his band had of winning.

Pause.

Jim: I'm not a singer, but...

----

The throbbing in Jim's skull had gotten to the point that he could barely see when he finally collapsed into his desk and booted up his computer.

"Jim," Dwight leaned over eagerly, "did I tell you I've come up with the female Oscar? Her name is Olivia and she's a lesbian..."

Jim shook his head angrily. "Dwight, I really don't want to have time for this right now."

----

Toby holds a hastily stapled packet of hand-written papers up to the camera.

Toby: Michael's script. Pam was nice enough to xerox me a copy, so...

He flips a few pages so we can all see.

Toby: I have to say... it might be the worst thing ever written.

He resumes reading, shaking his head as he does so.

Toby, to himself: The idea was awful and he just kept going...


	5. You're My Best Friend

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure" (Now With More Vitamin Schrute!)**

**Plug Five: You're My Best Friend**

Dwight was dressed in his tuxedo and speaking into a webcam. Behind him he had taped "It is with great pleasure that I attend this years Battlestar Galactica Fan Fiction Awards. Being nominated for Best Self-Insertion Character, Best Story-Angst, _and _Most Gorram Insane Premise is among the highest honors I have ever attained in my lifetime of notable achievements. The very fact that my name is being spoken in the same breathe with the great Stephen Ratliff... what are you doing?" Dwight exclaimed as Jim poked his head into the shot.

"Just wanted to see what you were up to," Jim said, innocently.

"I'm speaking live to Battlestar Galactica fans all around the world on this, our most sacred of days!" Dwight screamed.

"Oh, sorry," Jim said sincerely.

Dwight huffed but turned his attention back to the computer. "I think my Cousin Mose said it best when he said... damn it, Jim!"

"Sorry."

----

Jim: In two days, I will be hoping in Karen's car and driving down to Pittsburgh for the most public public humiliation of my adult life. To make things a little easier, Michael offered to let us play a rehearsal show for the whole office today. Jim nods He's offered to act as master of ceremonies, so... you know it will be good.

----

Pam walked into the office quietly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that she was coming in a little late. This plan failed completely when a concerned Dwight ran to her side.

"Pam, thank God you're okay," Dwight let out a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, I just had trouble getting up today," she replied weakly.

"I was really worried," Dwight confessed, "I had a dream that you were sacrificed to a dark god, as in the last season of Angel."

Pam, like most of us, simply does not know how to react, Jim, of course, jims.

Dwight continued unabated. "And Spike, Jim, and myself had organized a rescue party, but Jim had been replaced by the Dark Jim from another dimension, so I was (of course) expecting a betrayal."

"It was only a dream," Pam assures him sweetly.

Dwight shakes his head solemnly. "But dreams have a nasty habit of coming true."

----

Dwight: We Schrutes are known for having precognitive dreams. On November 22 in 1963, my grandfather woke up screaming that someone he loved was going to to die very soon... Dwight nods Two days later, Jack Ruby proved him right.

----

Jim and Toby sat together in the breakroom, neither of them aware of the camera watching them through the windows.

"This is all off the record this time, right?" Jim asked Toby.

"I'm not going to get you in trouble again," Toby assured him.

Jim thought for a second. "I honestly thought it was just going to be another way to kill boredom, but... there's all these rehearsals and then the road trip... it's like I don't have time for anything else anymore."

"And you can't tell Kevin this?"

Jim shrugged. "I can't let him down, it's Kevin."

Toby nodded and took a moment before getting to the real question. "How do you feel about the fact that its distracting you from your real problems?"

After a silence of several thousand years, Jim admitted "Pretty good, actually."

----

Pam and Karen were in the process of getting the conference room ready for the festivities later on.

"Why do you think Michael had assigned all this moving and lifting to you and me?" Karen asked, pushing a chair off to the side.

"Well, he saw it as being the responsibility of the Party Planning Committee and Angela delegated it to us," Pam explained.

"Of course," she nodded, having accepted this as Scranton logic.

There was a short silence.

"It'll be nice to hear Jim sing, though," Karen said.

"He's got a good voice," Pam agreed weakly.

Karen nodded. "He really does."

There was a medium-sized pause.

"He writes his own stuff, you know?" Karen told her, just trying to say anything.

"I didn't know that," admitted Pam, who didn't.

"Yeah," Karen nodded awkwardly. "He's pretty good."

There was a long silence, in which Karen thought (not for the first time) how much easier it had been to be friends with Pam before she knew her history.

----

Karen: I'm looking forward the road trip with Pam. Why wouldn't I be?

----

While they all waited for the band to finish their final checks, the workers of Dunder-Mifflin found themselves talking amongst themselves. Maybe it was the more relaxed atmosphere or maybe it was the fact that Michael had spiked his drink, but Toby found himself really opening up to his coworkers. He had to told them about the pain of his first marriage, the hope he had for current relationship (a hope he had thought had died long ago), and the simple joys of raising his daughter, all while they listened to him with rapt fascination. "I had been looking for my real father for so long," he said, his voice rich with sorrow and love, "and then to finally meet him..." Toby smiled warmly at the memory. "What was really funny was the little things that..."

"Check! Check! Check!" Michael interrupted with the aid of a booming sound system. "Listen up, you Primitive Screwheads, school is in session!" Then, as tends to happen around Michael Scott, the entire room recoiled in disgust as one. "I will be your host tonight for the ultimate... ultimate in stereophonic mayhem! Yeah! " Michael paused for applause, which was not coming. "Okay.. Kevin's band is going to play a few songs for everybody and we're all going pretend they're great, but first..." suddenly, the guitarist (realizing Michael intended to go on for quite some time) leapt to the rescue of the entire room and started to play. "Oh, I guess they're starting now. Be prepared to be crushed by a steaming pile of rocks!" Michael said quickly as the band began playing "You're My Best Friend."

Jim smiled and turned instinctively towards a certain female, then felt bad about it a second later.

----

Back in the office, Dwight was furiously typing away at his computer. Having slipped away unnoticed, Angela cautiously approached him. "What are you working on, Dwight?" she asked, going out of her way to sound clipped and formal.

"I accidently created a new universe for internet fiction the other day," Dwight said, not even looking away from his screen, "I'm trying to figure out how to get Paul and Jill together."

"Is that so?" she managed to ask without sounding like a question.

"I call them 'Pill,'" Dwight smiled wickedly at his own cleverness.

"I trust they have a pure, chaste love," Angela kept her expression blank.

Dwight furtively scanned the room to make sure no one was in earshot. They were all listening to Kevin's band. "Oh, no. It's dirtier than that," he grinned up at her like an obscene jack-o-lantern. "Like some small animal that only gets out a night."

Angela couldn't help the dark smile creeping onto her face.

----

After hearing "We Will Rock You" segue as always into "We Are the Champions," something stirred deep within Creed and he could no longer stand it. As the band prepared to play "Fat Bottomed Girls," Creed jumped up stage, yerking the guitar away from its rightful owner and snarled to the his crowd of coworkers "mind if _I _take this one?" To which Jim could only look koala-eyed at the camera.

----

Creed: Music is the most important thing in my life. All my greatest times were because of music. It's like an old friend... and there are some things you just don't let happen to your friends.

----

Hearing Creed and the raw power and emotion he was able to bring to any song he touched, Kevin couldn't help but feel a little pathetic by comparison. It was a feeling he was used to... pretty much everywhere outside of poker or basketball... but that didn't make things any easier. "We suck," he whispered to Jim conspiratorially.

Jim, unable to think of any other response, could only nod.

Kevin returned the nod. "We better call in sick tomorrow so we can rehearse," he said thoughtfully.

Jim stared mutely at the camera, eyebrows raised.


	6. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure" **

**Plug Six: "Crazy Little Thing Called Love"**

Jim: You don't really notice how big Pennsylvania is until you drive through it. My friends from New York and Connecticut think it's pretty small, but... from Scranton to Pittsburgh is about five and a half hours. I only had to drive that once, when I was in high school, we all drove down to my grandfather's house in Irwin to watch the Steelers lose Super Bowl XXX.

Shakes his head

Jim: _That _was a long ride home.

Pause

Jim: Uh...

----

The last time Jim could remember Pam being this quiet for this long was the week she discovered Michael had been secretly sending pictures of her to _Maxim Magazine_. Her mixture of embarrassment and rage had been so crippling at that point, that she would not look at, much less speak to, anyone else in the office. It had taken Jim six days of sympathy, pranks, and bribery to get her to smile again, though he was confident it would have been easier without Michael's constant assurances that Dunder-Mifflin could only benefit from her being named that months "Working Girl" and Roy's insistence that she should totally do it. Now that he thought about it, Karen hadn't said much, either. Neither had he. The only sounds in the car since they'd left the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot nearly half an hour ago had been the radio, and they'd be out of range soon enough. He sighed, the special camera mounted to the hood of his car didn't help matters, but he knew it couldn't take all the blame this time.

"So, uh..." he began, desperate to alleviate at least some of the awkwardness in the car. Then Jewel came on the radio and Jim switched it off with such speed and violence that both women turned to him in shock. "Sorry," he smiled weakly, "I just always hated that song."

"Really?" Karen asked. "Since when?" She could have sworn he confessed to having owned that first album before.

"Since always," he shrugged weakly.

Pam said nothing.

----

Dwight struck a classic George Reeves "Superman" pose as he supervised Ryan loading up his classic Firebird. "Nice work, Temp," he chipped haughtily.

Ryan heaved another massive bag into the rear seat, then turned to Dwight breathlessly. "You know I haven't been a temp for months."

Dwight shook his head smugly. "You'll always be a temp to me," he answered.

Ryan let his mouth hang open in disbelief, but said nothing.

----

Ryan: "Why am I going to Pittsburgh with Dwight?"

He pauses, as if trying to remember himself.

Ryan: Well... Michael can't go because he has a meeting with Jan tomorrow and... Kelly can't go because Michael is making her run the phones. So...

----

Kevin is driving the van, sandwich in hand, while the rest of his band is tuning up in the back.

Kevin, excited: We're on tour right now. We're going to play in another city. This is what I've always dreamed of. We've never been on tour before.

Suddenly, his face falls as he realizes his situation.

Kevin: We had to borrow this van from Vance Refrigeration.

----

Pam had started by nervously drumming her fingers on the door handles, just to have something to distract her from her current situation, but soon she found herself tapping out a regular rhythm. She felt a little proud of her newfound musical abilities and soon she was adding lyrics. "Just like WarioWare I'm Twisted, you step to me and I'll take out all you bitches."

Jim nearly swerved right off the turnpike and into the hillside. "What is that?"

Pam blushed, she hadn't realized she had been loud enough for anyone else to hear. "Michael made that up last Dre Day," she mumbled pathetically. "I've had it stuck in my head since."

Jim laughed. "I forgot about Dre Day."

"You did not!" Pam laughed indignantly, slapping the back of his seat.

Suddenly Jim felt more relaxed about this whole trip, if only slightly. He and Pam really did need this opportunity to reconnect.

----

Karen opens her mouth to speak... can think of nothing to say. Thinks for a second. Then looks directly into the camera, biting her lower lip, eyes wide.

----

"This is the life," Dwight spoke more to the camera than Ryan, "the great American highway... the open road... I feel like Captain Kirk."

"Could we please listen to something else?" Ryan pleaded, Dwight kept rewinding the tape to play "Black No. 1" over and over again. Ryan lost count of how many times he'd heard it today.

"Sure," Dwight said, reaching over to reveal a glove compartment full of battered tapes. "I've got Queen's Reich, Sepultura, Mötley Crüe, White Snake... Put on whatever you want."

Ryan looked to the camera for help. "Um... that's okay, I'm good."

"Great," Dwight turned his attention back to the wheel, completely unconcerned. After a moment he spoke again. "Hey, how would feel about Kelly being a named 'Kyle' in the cross-gender universe?"

Given more time, Ryan was confident he still wouldn't be able to formulate an appropriate response.

----

At the last gas station, Karen and Jim had switched driving duties and Karen was now behind the wheel. Karen had gone out of her way not to make a comment on how much easier it would be for Jim to speak to Pam if he didn't have to alternate between looking at the road and casting wistful glances at the backseat and Jim had responded to this unspoken jibe by lapsing back into total silence. He had plugged his iPod into the car stereo in a mad attempt to keep the silence from devouring them all like the blob from outer space, as that crazy accountant had put it in that English sitcom, but this too caused problems. He needed to find something that didn't recall a specific moment or feeling with either girl, this proved increasingly difficult since nearly every song or artist had some Pam-association, if only in his own mind. He had to go with a fairly random selection.

As the passed Wexford, Jim almost had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Three angry, hurt, raw people. Crammed in a car together. Listening to Kool & The Gang.

----

Michael: "Do I feel bad that I'm missing the show?"

Pause.

Michael: No. Not really. Jim's my best friend... After Packer... And there are sometimes when you just don't need your best friend hanging around you... like when you're in the most romantic city in the world with two lovely ladies.

He nods smugly

Michael: Huh? Or... when your special lady tells you that she's coming down for an "emergency performance evaluation."

Miichael: He smiles even broader, obviously thinking this is the best news possible.

So... it looks like things are going to work out for the both of us.

He winks at the camera.


	7. The Show Must Go On

_Well, I busted my ass, but I was able to get this one posted before tonight's episode... Wait, wouldn't it have been smarter to take my time, so I could integrate that into my story? Wow, that was pretty stupid of me._

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure" **

**Plug Seven: "The Show Must Go On"**

True to Kevin's words, this was easily the biggest crowd his band had ever played for: almost a full five people more than Phyllis's wedding. Of course, all five were in heavy costume, so Jim assumed they were more likely his rivals rather than potential fans.

"Still," he said to himself, "these are my people."

Karen spotted Ryan at the bar and he made his way over to him. On closer inspection, Jim thought that Ryan looked like someone maybe Detective Stabler should be interviewing. "How was the ride over with Dwight?" Jim asked.

After a few moments of horrified silence, Ryan found his voice. "He wanted to talk about '_relations_.'"

Jim winced. "He didn't name any names, did he?"

Ryan shook his head so rapidly Jim nearly thought it was going to go flying off. "But I can safely say her interests include S & M and Bible studies."

Jim gagged. Ryan was being purposely vague and Jim still wondered if he would ever be able to eat or sleep again, he could only imagine what Ryan was going through. "Sorry, man."

Then Ryan looked Jim dead in the eyes, and Jim noticed that they were all blue with no one there. "Then he asked me for new moves."

Jim took a deep breath, placed a friendly hand on his shoulder, then wrote the former temp off as being beyond his abilities. Instead, he cast a sweeping gaze around the bar, strangely energized by the painful ride down and more than ready to begin the sick farce that was waiting for him.

----

Jim: "What do I think of our competition?"

As he pauses to think of an answer, a trio of Freddie Mercurys walks in front of him, hand-in-hand.

Jim, over-the-top seriously: I think this going to be the tightest race in the history of Pennsylvania-based Queen tribute band contests.

----

Two and a half hours in, Jim could die happily if he knew that he would never have to hear "We Are The Champions" again. That was really the worst thing about these tribute bands, he decided; it wasn't that they all played the same ten tracks over and over again.

"Do you think Michael did okay today by himself?" Jim asked.

Pam nodded. "He asked me to make the instructions as detailed as I possibly could..."

"And?"

She kept her voice even as she said "I'm confident that he can now draw Donald Duck without any help."

Jim snickered.

----

Michael, demonstrating as he speaks: First you draw an egg shape for his head... then draw I line halfway through and...

----

"I've been working on starting a band of my own," Dwight stated, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yeah?" Jim answered, trying to puff Dwight out of existence through the power of positive thinking.

Dwight nodded, the epitome of cool confidence. "I've actually been writing a rock opera based on _the Wicker Man._"

Jim turned to him with frank disinterest. "You mean the movie with Nic Cage?"

"Britt Ekland," Dwight snorted derisively.

"Of course," Jim muttered.

"I always thought that was the ideal way to order the world," Dwight said wistfully.

Slowly, but with purpose, Jim moved as far from Dwight as he possibly could.

"And the naked musical numbers..." Dwight smiled in recollection.

----

Dwight: Did you truly think I had no taste for the erotic? I've had _ambulance sex!_

----

If Jim had dreamed for a second that the supply of awkwardness had been exhausted in the car trip down, his illusions were promptly squalshed.

After Kevin and his band had made their check on the status of their "secret weapon" they had moved to the other side of the bar, emphasizing the importance of keeping their distance so that the weapon remained a secret. As if any of the other tribute bands would see Jim, intuit his status as a guest member, and be able to find and train their own ringer in time to take the stage before them.

Which is why he currently found himself caught up in this three-way anti-staring contest, where none of them could either speak to or directly look at any of the others. He wondered if this could possible get anymore awkward.

"So..."

Maybe his mom could show up and show some pictures of him on the toilet.

His phone rang and Jim was so desperate for an out he answered without checking who it was. "Hello?"

"I've been thinking about the pretty water." It was Michael. He should have checked.

"What?" Jim asked his boss's voice.

"You know, how you'll be standing at a water fountain and you think that if you just wait long enough, the water will taste really good?" The drunken philosopher tone in his voice caused Jim to picture Michael slumped back in his chair, disturbingly languid, glass in his hand like Socrates with the poison.

"Yeah," Jim affirmed.

"But it never does, Jim," Michael insisted, "it always tastes like tap."

"Why I switched to bottled," Jim replied.

"Maybe love is like that, too," Michael said softly. Jim had to stop and think for a second. Every so often Michael would say something (usually by accident) that would actually prove relevant to... well, Michael saying _anything _remotely relevant was always disjarring. "I've been thinking..." Michael continued "maybe you shouldn't go for that three-way."

"Really?"

He could almost hear Michael nod. "Yeah, a lot of people could get really hurt."

"Thanks, Michael," Jim replied with the sarcasm he reserved for his boss. "I always value your advice."

"I know you do," Michael said gravely. "And Jim..."

"Yeah?"

"Remember what Dre said," Michael began another of his unrecognizable impressions, "'if you can't (edit) wit' da bitch you love, love da bitch you (edit).'"

"Yeeeaah..." Jim scratched his head at the sheer awkwardness of it, "I don't think Dr. Dre ever said that."

Again Jim could hear Michael nod. "He _will_," Michael whispered confidently. "Watch out of Detox."

Jim stared at his phone as the light clicked out. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he realized Kevin's band were taking the stage. He crawled into the shadows, waiting for his chance to take the stage.

----

Ryan, smiling thoughtfully: When I was in college, a couple friends and I drove down to Wilkes-Barre for this three day fest they used to have there and... my one friend, between bands, took of all his clothes and ran around through the industrial section of Wilkes-Barre.

He laughs.

Ryan: And it wasn't even a nice day. That... _that_ was a great show.

He shakes his head.

Pause.

Ryan, more somber: _This _show...

----

It was finally time, after crouching through Kevin's entire set, Jim finally heard the unmistakable intro to "Under Pressure" and he pounced onto the stage like a puma. He grabbed the mic and finally put into use all the crazy, impossible, rock moves he spent all night practicing when he was in junior high. He could barely hear his own voice over the rest of the band, but he knew instinctively that he was better than he'd ever been before. They all were. The whole band was at the absolute pinnacle of their abilities... and they were still so awful that no sane human being would possibly choose listening to them over, say, having heated nails driven into their eye sockets. He gazed out into the crowd and saw her laughing. Then he couldn't help but screw up his line.

As Karen stared up at Jim on the stage, she couldn't help but sigh. She wasn't sure if his inherent goofiness was what attracted her to him in the first place or something that she had just come to accept as part of the Halpert package, but at some point she had come to love it. And he was quickly approaching the goofiest she had ever seen him... he had actually started duck-walking. Then Karen noticed that, while Jim was unquestionably keeping his eyes on his audience, he hadn't looked at her once; hadn't even tried to find her in the crowd. In fact, his eyes had been glued to one specific spot.

Jim hadn't been conscious aware that he had been singing directly to Pam until he was caught doing it. He somehow _felt _Karen's eyes on him and when he turned slightly to face her, only to be met with the same look of hurt and betrayal that had become so painfully familiar to him since they moved back to Scranton. Jim dropped his mic, wondering how to apologize to someone while on stage (knowing that he was not the first man to be faced with this dilemma), but she solved the problem for him by turning around and moving towards the exit as fast as she could.

Now Jim knew he had to act, he'd screwed up and now he had to do what was right. With absolute zero concern that the song had just gotten to the really good bit, he dropped down from the stage and pushed his way through the crowd after her, without saying word one to anybody.

While most of the people gathered there could only gape in stunned silence, Dwight took the opportunity to leap on stage. Taking up Jim's discarded microphone, he bellowed "mind if_ I_ sing this one?"

----

Kevin: "Did we win?"

He stares at the camera like a fish in a bowl of a few seconds.

Kevin: Well...


	8. Pressure Drop

_So, no we come to the sad and weepy part of the story. _

_Yeah. There was originally going to one more chapter after this one, but I then I tweaked a line and ended up with what I thought was a suitable ending, so... unless I get a lot of demands to the contrary, this will be the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, it's been a trip._

John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN **"Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure" **

**Plug Eight: The Idiot**

Dwight was still on stage, seeming ignorant to the disinterest of the crowd, the other bands queuing up behind him, or even the fact that Kevin's band is packing up and leaving.

"Now, I'd like to play something by the Bloodhound Gang... Michael, I know you can hear this somehow."

----

Pam, trying desperately to seem positive: Jim went after Karen.

She nods nervously, smiling a few yards to wide to completely believable.

Pam: I stayed here.

She smiles even broader.

Pam: I don't know what he's saying to her right now, but... I'm okay with that.

Pause.

Pam: Because... it really doesn't have anything to do with me.

----

When Jim finally caught up with Karen, she was midway across one of the eighteen million bridges that stretched across the cold Pittsburgh nightscape.

"Karen."

She turned to face him only reluctantly, and he thought her face looked not so much like she was trying to keep herself from crying in front of him as much she was trying to absorb all the moisture from all around them in through her eyes and nose.

He realized that for as upset as he'd seen her, he'd never once seen her cry. Whenever she had been especially hurt or offended, (always by him, always because of something he'd failed to do) she'd leave the room and he'd stay. He'd seen Pam cry... really, Pam had seen him cry, too.

He couldn't believe he never noticed it before.

----

Michael: I knew I would not be able to make it to Pittsburgh, so I sent the next best thing.

----

Pam and Ryan sat at the bar despondently, both trying to prop their heads up with their fists, despite neither of them having anything to drink that night. Pam wished she knew what Jim was saying to Karen right now, wished she could have gone with him, but she knew this wasn't her time or place and her being there could only make things worse for all concerned. She also wished that Todd Packer wasn't sitting between her and Ryan, telling horribly racist joke after horribly racist joke.

"... and the Mexican says 'he said he'd shoot me with I didn't do his woman!" No one laughed, so Packer turned his attention towards Pam. "You got a something right in there," he said, gesturing between her breasts.

"No, I don't," Pam replied drily, not even looking down.

"Well... give me a few more drinks!" He shouted and turned to Ryan for support, but the former temp shook his head in disgust. "I'll tell ya," Packer continued, scanning the crowd, "Pennsylvania has got to be my favorite state in the union."

"It's not a state, it's a commonwealth," Ryan corrected drily.

Packer shook his head. "All I know is the age of consent is only sixteen!"

----

Ryan: Right now, Jim is having probably the most the awkward conversation of his life...

Ryan looks back at Packer, who is still harassing Pam, then looks back to the camera with bitter envy.

----

Jim struggled with seventeen hundred different questions, but somehow ended up on a "What?" that was barely a breath.

Karen faired slightly better, managing to utter "You never wrote a song about me."

Jim blinked and took a step back, he seemed somehow drunk though he had abstained tonight. His mind was suddenly unable to process verbal communication, but she could read his pauses.

"You never wrote a song for me," she repeated bitterly, "but you can't tell me you never wrote a song called 'I Love You Pam' or 'My Pam' or..." she was shaking and struggling, trying not to let him see her break.

"I didn't," Jim told her.

Karen glared at him.

"It was called 'Feels Like Midnight,'" he admitted. "...had kind of an early Shins sound."

"Wonderful," Karen commented.

There came a silence that looked at all the many silences that had peppered his life, both recent and ancient, declared it could take them all at once and still emerge victor, yet found no one willing to raise to the challenge. Jim found himself struggling with his words on a level that was new even for him. He knew there had to be a camera hidden somewhere. He wondered what it saw.

"Karen, I..." Jim began, only to be dragged down by the weight of his only thoughts and words.

She shook her head distainfully. "Just say it, Jim."

He nodded and took a deep breath of the cold Allegheny air. The microphones couldn't quite pick it up what he said, but Karen's eyes went wide..

----

Dwight is he is being carried off stage by security

Dwight: Ever feel like you've been cheated?


End file.
